


Ruled By Secrecy

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon!Stiles, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erica Reyes wasn't always the quiet, epileptic girl from Beacon Hills. In fact, Reyes isn't even her surname anymore. Her name is Erica Singer, and she's a hunter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruled By Secrecy

**Author's Note:**

> Because you seriously need more BAMF!Erica in your life, because she's a sexy chick ;) Adding a sequel soon!

Erica hadn't always lived in Beacon Hills. In fact, for the majority of her life she'd lived halfway across the country, before moving back to her hometown when she was fourteen. Erica's parents had died when she was young, only six, because of what the papers called a 'freak fire' that erupted in her house from a loose wire, apparently. The official investigation didn't say any different, and to the public, Sally and Parker Reyes had been knocked out by a falling piece of timber and then burned to a crisp, thankfully unconscious the whole time.

However, the unofficial investigation showed something completely different. A man named John Winchester in a fancy FBI suit with a shiny badge had shown up, and Erica had explained what happened, what no one else believed – something had been in her house, a figure on fire, and they burnt everything while her parents were paralyzed, unable to scream. Erica had seen the entire thing until whatever instincts she had told her to get out of the house as fast as she could; a few days after that she was legally diagnosed with epilepsy.

Erica had no remaining family and was sent halfway across the country to live with a man named Bobby Singer, who had become like a father to the young girl. He'd told her about the things in the night, the creatures that roamed the Earth and the stories that were true, but he also told her about the people who were brave and courageous enough to fight them off and to protect the other people of the world even at risk of being arrested.

Erica had always been interested in hunting after he told her, and when Erica was eight, Bobby let her fire her first gun – it was a tiny, old Colt that he kept locked away in a drawer, and it was the day that Erica Reyes became Erica Singer. Bobby taught her the best ways to hold and shoot a gun, when to shoot and how to keep all of her senses alert. He let her read as many of his books as she wanted, to stock up on information and also because she was an extremely curious child. She wanted to know about the bad creatures (numerous) and the good creatures (not so many), why some of them were the way they were and how they came to be.

In turn, Bobby became the father she lost, took care of her during her seizures and baked with her on weekends (even though this knowledge was not known to anyone, not even John Winchester). Bobby would tell her about cars and how to fix them, how to handle people who arrived at the door if he wasn't there – throw a splash of holy water at them, then some salt and a few choice words.

Erica had been twelve when John Winchester and his two teenage boys Sam and Dean had been given permission by Bobby to take her out on her first hunt. Sam was fifteen and Dean was nineteen, and Erica had crushed majorly on the youngest Winchester, although she never said anything about it. She had hopped in the back of their '67 Chevy Impala with a small duffel bag packed and a nervous smile on her face. Dean was up the front with their father, both of them bobbing their heads along to the AC/DC that came out of the radio. Erica liked it, but she was more of a Muse girl, no matter how many times Bobby had played his classic rock music. Sam was in the back with her, and he told her all the stories about the hunts he'd been on, the bones he'd broken, the people he'd met and the creatures they'd killed.

Erica thought that Sam wasn't too interested in hunting, in fact she noticed that he seemed to tell stories about the funny things that happened at his schools more, but Erica was interested and impressed, and so he continued. Erica had smiled the entire two-day drive, and got to share a bed with the youngest Winchester when there wasn't enough space in the motel.

The hunt they went on was a regular salt-and-burn (and yes, it was only regular, it seemed that Erica was a good-luck charm that prevented unexpected shit from happening), and was over within two days. Erica had been petrified when they entered the cemetery in the dead of night, absolutely convinced that someone was going to see them digging up the body of an old lady. To be fair, the old lady in question had been throwing sharp objects at all the descendants of her dead lover, who had murdered her.

Erica had thought it ironic that the murdering husband had moved on to wherever he went.

Erica had doubled up on her epilepsy medication just in case, but Sam knew what to do in case she did have a seizure – so did John and Dean, but Bobby had trusted the youngest Winchester to be the most responsible. The first time the ghost had appeared, Erica whirled her shotgun around and shot the lady straight in the head with rock salt, and the Winchesters had looked at her in shock. Frankly, Erica was in shock too, but the impulse to shoot-before-we-die had overridden her body's need to freeze in shock.

The old lady had appeared multiple times throughout the digging, and Erica and Dean had ended up just putting a salt line around the grave and didn't worry about the wailing the woman had insisted on doing – she wasn't strong enough to pick up any sort of wind to break the line.

Erica had been returned home right on schedule, and she'd hugged all the Winchesters tight and Dean had promised to bring her on another hunt some time with a wink and a pretend 'call-me' hand signal. Sam had given her a bracelet that he'd picked up a few states over that he thought was perfect for her – it was a bright red woven with brown and had a star hanging off it. It was custom for Sam to give her a new charm whenever he visited her over the next two years, and by the time Erica had returned home to Beacon Hills at Bobby's insistence that she needed proper schooling, she had six charms. Erica loved being back home, but she also knew that at heart she was a hunter, even when she was turned.

That was also why Erica knew something was off as soon as she smelt the sulfur and burning smell of Stiles as he approached the Hale house, where the pack was relaxing after a hard day of training.

Erica was lying on the porch with her head in Isaac's lap, practically purring at the feeling of his fingers carding through her hair. They had a very relaxed friendship, almost what Erica had with Sam the last time she had seen him. Erica winced inwardly, and wondered what the boys would think about her becoming a strain 2 werewolf – strain 1 was the type who ripped out hearts and were hunted, strain 2 was her type, who could control themselves and didn't turn into rabid monsters… at least, not without reason. Bobby knew, and supported her decision after she explained her reasons.

Boyd and Scott were sitting next to each other, discussing sport, and Allison was talking with Lydia on the front steps about dating werewolves, which Erica found herself snorting at. Jackson and Danny were playing Left 4 Dead 2, and from the sounds of it, Danny was kicking Jackson's ass. Derek was sitting on the opposite end of the porch, eyes closed and breathing slowly – not asleep, just very relaxed. The sun was shining for once, there was a slight breeze ruffling the leaves and the Hale house no longer smelled like smoke and fire, but of new paint and furniture and pack.

The whole Gerard-Kanima thing had been solved a few months back, Lydia and Danny had been told what was going on (finally) and accepted into the pack (Danny was turned as well, and was the second Omega along with Jackson). The pack of Alphas that everyone was so terrified about were actually just making sure that the new Beacon Hills pack wasn't a threat to the exposure of lycanthropy (Erica had laughed, and was sorely tempted to tell them that werewolves weren't the only thing in the dark), and had come inside for a nice cup of tea. Things had slowed down now, nearly everyone was in control every full moon and Derek and Stiles had finally, finally gotten together.

Then, a strange smell tickled Erica's nose. She scrunched up her nose and raised her eyes to look at Isaac, who had also noticed it. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it smelt vaguely familiar, and she didn't like it. The smell got closer, and Erica then noticed the rumbling sound of Stiles' jeep coming through the woods. She got up to her feet and looked to Derek, and the Alpha had his eyes open and narrowed. Eventually the whole pack was standing on the porch as the smell got stronger and Erica covered her nose with her hand because the smell was so overwhelm- oh.

Erica immediately recognized the smell, one she hadn't smelled outside of Bobby's training sessions, one that Bobby told her to always be on the lookout for – that was sulfur. And sulfur meant demons.

Erica shot upstairs to her bedroom (which was still being furnished, it only had a dresser and a small mattress), and got out a can of spray paint that she kept stashed with all of her hunting things. She immediately got to work on spraying a red devil's trap just past her doorway, the symbol coming to her mind as clearly as it had when Bobby had forced her to draw it over and over and over again. When she was done she chucked the can in a corner and went downstairs to wait with the pack. She wondered who Stiles was with and if he knew that they were a demon… of course he wouldn't, he couldn't smell like they could, wouldn't even know the difference. Demons rooted about in their host's head and plucked out their memories and imitated personalities down to a tee… Stiles was putting them all in danger, the one who usually saved them, without even knowing it.

"What the hell is that smell?" Scott asked, his voice muffled by his sleeve that was covering his nose and mouth.

"Sulfur," was all Erica said as the jeep finally came into view. Stiles parked where he normally did and jumped out of his car… but there was no one else with him. Oh fuck, Erica groaned inwardly. Of course Stiles would get possessed the only day he wasn't around them. What. An. Idiot.

"Hey guys! What's with the whole murder-eyes thing? Is this some kind of intervention? I swear I only did weed once and that was when Derek and I were going through a rough patch!" Stiles rambled, his eyes wide and shining with his crazy movements. He was so like himself that Erica was almost, almost convinced that it was him; if it weren't for her training and the overwhelming stench of rotten eggs.

"What the hell have you been rolling in Stilinski? You smell like eggs and a sewer," Jackson said in typical fashion, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"That would be my Dad. Seventeen years of raising a kid and he still doesn't know how to cook. He thinks you throw chicken in a pan and then add about one million different spices until you are literally gagging; I had to chuck it out and air out the entire house," Stiles explained, and with a once-over Erica could see that most of the pack was convinced. Stiles' heart was completely normal, a steady thump-thump with not a single hesitation or blip. Stiles was a terrible liar, everyone knew that, but even Derek looked like he was nearly convinced even though his instincts were probably telling him otherwise.

"Ugh well you need to have a shower," Erica insisted, playing along. "D'you wanna drink? We just went out and bought some coke," she said. Everyone in the pack immediately calmed down, despite the smell permeating the air.

"Yes! I have been dying for one all day," Stiles joked, and only Erica saw the maliciousness in his voice. Erica retreated to the kitchen and got one of the bottles of coke that was in the fridge, opened it and poured in a small amount of holy water that she took from a flask in her pocket. She resealed it again and went back out to the porch and handed it to Stiles, who smiled. Under her breath Erica whispered "everyone get upstairs to my bedroom now, just go." Stiles took a swig of the drink and started hacking, the steam coming out of his smoke as the holy water burned it's way down and his eyes turned black.

"What have you done?" he hissed, throwing his hand out in Erica's direction. She was thrown back into the hallway, but luckily everyone clambered upstairs too fast for the demon to get them. Erica yanked out a knife from her boot and scrambled to her feet, but had it knocked out of her hand followed up by a sharp right hook and kick to the leg. She felt something crack.

"So, you're a hunter? I never would've thought that you'd turn into the hideous creature you are, I thought you lot were against that," the demon sneered, his eyes fully black with no need to hide it anymore. "You're a dumb dog, aren't you?" it said, and Erica tried to crawl her way upstairs, feigning injury although it was already healing. "All of your friends left, you're all alone and defenseless – don't think they're going to help you," it spat, grabbing her ankle and dragging her down the stairs. It held her down as she struggled, her breathing quick and heavy, her eyes wide and scared.

"Little Erica Reyes, the poor girl with the seizures. You think Stiles ever cared about you, even after you'd been pining after him for so long? No, he only ever had eyes for little redhead Lydia, and now he's only got eyes for that dumb mongrel you call an Alpha," it sneered. Erica heard a small snarl from upstairs, but was glad that the pack was staying upstairs like she'd asked them to – they'd learned to trust her now. Erica freaked and lashed out, managing to kick the demon in the face. It's grip let up slightly and she ran upstairs as fast as she could on all fours. The demon laughed as it followed her, and telekinetically threw her into a wall once she reached the top.

"Be careful, Erica dear, you don't want to damage this packaging. Although, you know better than others that if you hurt me, you hurt the Stilinski boy," the demon said, a dark grin on its face that should have never been on Stiles' usually happy face. "He's screaming, you know. Stiles. He's screaming and crying and yelling and banging about, begging me to stop hurting you, begging me to let the pack go and he even says that I can keep him forever, if he lets you all go." The demon laughed again.

"I don't think that's going to happen," it said, reaching down and snapping Erica's arm like a twig. She screamed, high and with a canine ring. Luckily the demon didn't know that she was also yelling to the pack to stay back. The pain thrummed up her arm along with her broken but healing leg; but she knew that pain meant that she was alive. She could do this. She had to, for Stiles, for the boy that had become the Pack Mom. For Derek, for her Alpha, for her pack. The demon punched her in the gut and Erica heard something crack, and she snarled at him through the blood on her teeth.

"Oh, you've still got spirit, I like that. Maybe I should've possessed you instead of this weakling human. Although, it might interest you to know that he's not completely human," the demon said nonchalantly. Erica stopped and glared up at it.

"You're lying, that's all demons do, they lie and kill and maim," she hissed. The demon looked down at her condescendingly.

"Oh, Erica, Erica, Erica… demons do lie, but we also tell the truth if we know it will hurt people. Stiles didn't want you to know that he's not completely human. Didn't you ever wonder how he managed to get that Mountain Ash to reach when there wasn't enough? Why Dr. Deaton always seems too concerned about him? Why you don't know a single thing about the late Mrs. Stilinski? Your friend Stiles is half witch, from his mother's side," the demon cackled.

Erica was shocked for a second, but filed the information away for later, when she wasn't being attacked by a demon. She pulled away again from under the demon and felt it snap her ankle. She screamed but crawled along the floor, trying to get to her room where the rest of the pack were hiding, whimpering and waiting.

"Oh try and get away all you want, Shaky, your pack won't be able to do anything. You damage this packaging, you kill Stiles!" it said gleefully. Erica ignored it and focused on trying to speed up her healing process as she finally pulled herself to her door. She got up on her knees and launched herself into the room, and Allison grabbed her arm and hauled her in. The demon laughed jauntily and walked towards them, walked through the door with its arm out – and stopped. It frowned, looked up and growled when it saw the still drying devil's trap on the ceiling.

"You're a pretty dumb demon yourself," Erica spat out, accidentally spitting blood out onto the floor. She weakly got to her feet with Isaac holding her up until she'd healed. "You didn't seriously think that I was just a small-time hunter, did you?" Erica taunted. This was her element. "You don't think I know how to handle a demon? Let me tell you something, you idjit," she sneered, using the word that she'd heard Bobby use so often. "I was raised by the best, one of the most well-known, brightest hunters in the world, and you're going back to Hell," she hissed, taking a step forward now that her legs had healed.

"You'll pay for this Reyes," the demon snarled, ebony eyes flashing.

"My name is Erica Singer," Erica growled, and the demon paused in what looked like fear. Erica grinned and began to chant.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica," she recited, and Stiles began to shake and spit, the demon's eyes flashing between inky black and a familiar hazel. "Ergo draco maledicte et section, ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica, Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos!" Erica yelled, and the demon screamed as Stiles' body bent back, the cloud of black smoke tearing out of the house, breaking through her window and back into the depths of the pit. Stiles pitched forward but was caught by Derek, who got to his side in a flash. The human opened his eyes wearily and looked around the room, at the pack who was either a pale white shade, or staring at Erica in shock.

"Thanks Erica," Stiles mumbled, and Erica smiled.

"Anytime," she said, and the human finally fell asleep, exhausted. Derek picked him up gently and moved towards their bedroom, the pack following. Derek and Stiles lay down on their super-queen sized mattress and the pack joined them, curling around each other and sharing heat, glad that Stiles was alive and they were all happy.

"What was that?" Boyd asked after a while.

"That was an exorcism," Lydia informed. "A very well recited exorcism actually, your Latin was perfect, Erica," she said, and Erica laughed.

"You're not the only one who's fluent in a dead language," Erica informed. "My parents were killed when I was six by a Hellfire spirit, and I was raised by Bobby Singer, a man I consider to be my father. He's a hunter, not like the Argents, but a hunter of everything supernatural – demons, ghosts, vampires, strain 1 werewolves, shapeshifters, tulpas… you name it, we hunt it," Erica said.

"…You're a hunter?" Isaac asked warily. Erica smiled up at the fluffy-haired wolf.

"Only part time, and only when something's hurting other people."

"Won't your father have something against that?" Boyd asked.

"Nope, strain 2 werewolves – the type we are – aren't usually hunted by my type of hunters. Besides, being a wolf actually helps me on hunts," Erica said. "Now hush, Stiles was just possessed by a demon and if we wake him up, he's not going to have any energy to make his chocolate-chip pancakes tomorrow," Erica said with a grin, and the pack laughed as everyone snuggled in around Derek and Stiles. Everything else – hunting, supernatural creatures and Stiles' humanity would all be discussed later. For now, everyone was content with being together and alive.

Sam and Dean were very impressed with Erica's one-person exorcism, and Sam sent her a new charm in the mail – a shiny silver paw print.


End file.
